


Undead

by sashanico



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Death References, Depression, Drabble, Ficlet, Gen, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashanico/pseuds/sashanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Ficlet/Drabble] No Summary</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undead

Nobody understands death the way I do. Once you’re been there, in a place where men die in masses, the line between death and life become blurred and insubstantial. When I stand again in those battlefields, I swear I can see them again. Those men who die for me, opposing me, I see them in my mind’s eye. They are hidden in the fields, lurking behind the tall grass and the innocent sunflowers. There are many, many dead in my land, such mockeries of life. They constantly call out to me, tempting me. Sometimes I allow myself to be tempted. Sometimes I take one step after another, without care for myself, hoping to end my life, too, and perhaps find peace. To walk among the dead.  
  
To forget.  
  
To Die.  
  
But life is an annoyingly persistent thing. Even when the dead tempt me with their sweetest promises, I am inevitably pulled back, for it is not my path. Back to the world of giggling children that take my hand in theirs, begging me for another piggyback ride, another story of my Czarina…  
  
How can I deny them? It would be selfish of me to take away their vibrant smiles, to leave them in a lawless earth preyed upon by other nations. I could never do that. No. I cannot let them suffer as I did, to be left without power, to be fated to watch helplessly as others fight over the land I would leave behind…  
  
Oh, why can’t I allow myself this one thing? This once moment of utter selfishness that will end all agony?  
  
And so the tug of war for my soul resumes, that is, if I have one to begin with. I like to think that I do. After all, the other nations do, too. Why would I be any different? I frown, suppressing the whispers in the back of my mind, saying that, of course, I’m different; after all, I have thrice the amount of blood on my hands. There is no such thing as atonement for me. I can only watch the others jealously as they live on their blissful lives, forever an outsider. They love, they smile, and they heal each other, while I do not.  
I am the land of blood-steeped snow.  
  
I am the nation of the living dead.  
  
I am the country that is shunned by all of my kind.  
  
Yet I am still living, breathing, loving, even though it should be impossible. I am a walking contradiction. And still, it’s okay. Because as long as I walk this earth, I still have a place to belong to, and my heart still beats  
  
And as long as my heart beats, I know I am still alive.

**Author's Note:**

> *cries* I wrote this for English  
> Never again...


End file.
